Hi friends,
Yesterday my daughter Nina asked me if she was an old soul (she’s the older one in the picture helping little Harper at aerial silks class. Nina teaches the class with me every week).
I frowned before I answered.
Sometimes people say I’m an old soul. Sometimes they say that about my children. When they say it I always wonder what that means for the new souls and how, in the first place, to know if I or anyone else am/was/is/will be an old soul?
There’s a kaleidoscope of words to describe and classify the souls past and present and places we might have journeyed from. I love the possibilities. But I hate it when I hear people label other people with absolute certainty that they are this or that type.
We just don’t know.
I do believe there’s much that can be perceived if we expand our awareness - and that the mystery is right here or right there. But perception of something doesn’t make it firmly known.
These days I’m more interested in learning about the plants and the trees and the birds than spiritual things.
I think we water down, or muddy, or plain old - miss the point - of so much - by using language poorly.
Old soul … I actually love the feel of those words - but only if we are all Old Souls - if we can say that to be true of everyone it becomes something quite beautiful - because within the words ‘old soul’ is (in my own definition of the phrase) a gesturing towards a deep, rooted kind of wisdom. And if we can say that of every soul no matter their foolish behaviour it cultivates compassion and hopefulness.
In the end I told Nina everything I’m sharing here. I told her others have said she’s an Old Soul and then we wondered together what it all means before we went outside to feed the chickens and read our books.
Warmly,
Lucy
p.s. Would you like to come to Nicaragua on a writers residency ? Brand new information right here and more coming in the next post I send out.